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BLUE  AND  GOLD 


UKIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


BLUE  AND  GOLD 


WILLIAM  S.  LORD 

AUTHOR  OF  "JINGLH   AND  JANGLE,"    "BEST  SHORT 
POEMS,"    ETC. 


;aGO    new  YORK 

TORONT 

0 

<G  H.   REVELL   COMPANY 

1900 

/^ 

4!^ 

^ 

Copyright,  1895, 
By  WnxiAM  S.  IiOBD. 


All  rights  reserved. 


BLUE  AND  GOLD. 

JITTLE  Two  Years  Old,  my  son. 

Life  for  you  has  Just  begun; 
Dew  is  fresh  upon  the  grass 
All  along  the  way  you  pass; 
Every  blade  your  dear  feet  press 
Gives  a  gentle,  cool  caress. 
Violets  and  buttercups 
Chronicle  your  downs  and  ups. 
Blue  and  gold,  and  gold  and  blue, 
Seemeth  all  the  world  to  you. 

Little  Two  Years  Old,  too  soon 

You  will  know  the  heat  of  noon. 

Dust  along  your  path  will  lie, 

And  the  grass  be  sere  and  dry. 

Every  blade  will  give  a  thrust. 

Cry  and  urge,  'You  must  I  You  must/* 

Rose  of  flame  with  cruel  thorn 

Best  will  tell  the  sweet  pain  borne. 

Red  and  brown,  and  brown  and  red. 

Seems  the  world  the  sun  o'erhead. 


2131795 


Little  Two  Fears  Old,  the  light 
Softens  when  you  say  'good-night* 
Sweet  the  journey  will  be  when 
You  are  almost  home  again. 
Every  footstep  brings  you  near 
Faces,  voices,  long  held  dear. 
Gentian  blue  and  golden-rod 
Lead  you  onward  up  to  God. 
Blue  and  gold,  and  gold  and  blue 
So  the  world  will  be  to  you. 


CONTENTS. 

FAOB 

Thb  Sonnbt 9 

*  TowAKD  A  Fab  Land  ' 10 

everness 11 

The  Ballade  of  Brave  Men 12 

The  Invitation 14 

A  Lyric 16 

Water  Lilies 17 

The  Drinking  Fountain 18 

A  Winter  Song 21 

Across  the  Sea 22 

To  A  Dreamer 23 

Treachery 24 

The  March  Wind 26 

Sorrow  in  Summer      27 

Love  a  Prisoner 28 

Unsaid 29 

Love  is  Dead 30 

The  Musician 32 

Love's  Answer 33 

Constancy 34 

Song 35 

Words  for  Rubinstein's  Melody 36 

In  Maytime 37 

Rhyme-Bloom 38 

Recompense 40 

In  Sight 41 

Transition 42 

September  the  Twenty-Fifth 43 

A  Summer  Morning 44 

Vacation 46 

vii. 


(EDontents. 

PAOB 

LiTTUE  Tbavkbsb  Bat 46 

Professor  David  Swing 47 

The  Country  School 48 

SijBbp 50 

In  Dreamland 61 

Spanish  Lullabt 52 

Swinging  to  DreamiiAnd ,    .  53 

Mother,  Moon,  and  Stars 54 

Hbigh-HoI  My  Laddie,  01      55 

Suppose 66 

My  Rivai, 68 

Dorchester  and  Dorothy 60 

Christmas  is  Coming 62 

Mother  Goose 64 

Grandmother's  Sweetheart 66 

Bhyme  of  the  Coverlet 68 

TiCK-TocK  Lullaby 69 

Nautical  Ned 70 

Little  Elizabeth 72 

Alone  with  the  Baby 74 

Swinging  Song 76 

Stumble  Toe 78 

The  Wind's  Song  —  In  the  Tree-top 80 

Dreaming  and  Doing 85 

SUBURBAN  SILHOUETTES. 

A  Ballade  of  Co-operative  Cooking 87 

The  Doctor's  Ride 89 

The  Frog  Pond 92 

The 'Fem.  Sem.' Girl 94 

Lindy 96 

The  Kiss 99 

How  the  Other  Half  Live 100 

Don't 102 

Aunt  Mary .  104 

viii. 


BLUE  AND  GOLD. 


THE  SONNET. 

T"HE  room  encircling  Milton's  mighty  woe 
Will  ne'er  give  echo  to  my  feeble  cry ; 
The  Grasmere  Cottage,  with  the  brook  near  by, 

Where  Wordsworth  chanted,  I  shall  never  know ; 

The  home  where  Shakespeare  lived  so  long  ago 
May  prison  glories  caught  from  his  bright  eye 
More  gorgeous  than  the  glow  of  sunset  sky — 

For  me  in  vain  such  matchless  wonders  show. 

But  mark !  there  is  a  little  splendid  space 
Shut  in  by  walls  the  same  to-day  as  when 
It  knew  the  presence  of  these  marvellous  men, 
And  I  may  pause  in  that  enchanted   place : 
What  trumpet  tones,  what  whisperings  of  delight. 
The  Sonnet  holds  to  gladden  day  and  night ! 


Blue  ant)  (Bolti, 


'TOWARD  A  FAR  LAND: 

"TOWARD  a  far  land,  whose  dream -discovered 
shore 

Our  hearts  do  hope  for,  we  are  sailing  on ; 

The  way  is  dark,  and  mutinous  thoughts,  anon, 
Protest  against  the  voyage,  and  implore 
The  master,  Faith,  to  search  the  sea  no  more 

For  unknown  lands.     We  soon  are  set  upon 

By  winds  and  waves  of  doubt,  that  make  us  con 
The  awful  vastness  of  what  lies  before. 

But  oh,  my  brothers !  bear  abounding  trust, 
And  fearless  Faith  will  doubting  crew  dismay : 

So  was  Columbus  tried  by  thoughts  unjust — 
Who  found  a  world,  while  seeking  for  a  way 

That  would  be  shorter,  from  Spain's  heat  and  dust, 
To  the  fair  gardens  of  far-famed  Cathay ! 


10 


33lue  anti  (§olti. 


EVERNESS. 

\A/HAT  of  the  land,  and  what  of  the  sea, 

And  what  of  the  sky  bending  over  ? 

What  is  the  message  they  're  bringing  to  thee 

In  language  of  cloud,  wave,  and  clover  ? 

The  cloud  melts  and  scatters,  and  lost  in  the  sea 
Is  the  wave  in  its  mighty  endeavor ; 

The  sweets  of  the  clover  belong  to  the  bee, 
But  sea,  land,  and  sky  are  forever. 


U 


iSluc  ant  ©olU. 


THE  BALLADE  OF  BRA  VE  MEN. 

A  SONG  for  the  men  so  true, 

The  sailors  of  sunken  ships, 
The  sport  of  the  winds  that  blew. 

Devoured  by  the  waves'  white  lips. 

There,  where  the  seagull  dips. 
There,  'neath  the  sky  so  blue. 

There,  where  the  schoolboy  strips  — 
Brave  men,  there  is  rest  for  you. 

A  song  for  the  shipwrecked  crew, 

The  men  of  the  docks  and  slips, 
Propelled  by  a  sail  or  screw 

You  made  many  perilous  trips ; 

"With  the  canvas  torn  to  strips, 
Before  the  gale  you  flew  ; 

No  more  the  wild  wind  whips  — 
Brave  men,  there  is  rest  for  you. 

A  song  for  the  men  too  few  — 
For  nature  so  few  equips — 


12 


ISlUE  anD  0a\t}, 


Who  drink  that  awful  brew 
That  only  a  brave  man  sips. 
The  stanchest  of  ships  are  chips : 

No  power  can  the  sea  subdue. 
No  longer  the  cold  spray  drips  — 

Brave  men,  there  is  rest  for  you. 

ENVOY. 

Dear  friend,  every  true  soul  tips 
To  bravery  when  in  view ; 

Where  never  a  chill  wind  nips, 
Brave  men,  there  is  rest  for  you. 


13 


Blue  anti  (QaVti, 


TEE  INVITATION. 

\}^HEN  April  sets  her  seal  upon 

The  year,  and  'twixt  the  showers 
The  truant  sun  returns  at  last 
To  bless  the  budding  flowers; 

When  skies  are  dappled,  softest  blue 

"With  flecks  of  softest  gray, 
And  those  who  love  the  greening  wood 

May  tread  the  woodland  way; 

When  earth  seems  new,  fresh  from  the  hand 

Of  God,  and  strangely  bright ; 
And  winds  no  longer  pinch  or  chill, 

But  stir  us  with  delight ; 

When  mating  birds  begin  their  lay, 

And  make  the  season's  plans ; 
When  all  are  wingbd  architects 

Instead  of  artisans; 


14 


Blue  antJ  ©olli. 


Then  let  us  stray  together  where, 
Shut  out  from  worldly  din, 

We  may  surprise  the  secrets  hid 
The  mother's  heart  within. 

Dear  Nature  woos  us  to  her  breast, 
Would  have  us  babes  again, 

And  I,  for  one,  am  ready,  friend— 
'Tis  milk  to  nourish  men. 


IS 


aSlue  anil  (SoltJ. 


A  LYRIC. 

A  LYRIC,  miss, 

Is  the  muse's  kiss. 
Brief  and  sweet, 
Yet  complete 
As  a  smile  on  a  face^ 
Or  a  bit  of  lace, 
Or  a  turn  of  wit; 

It, 

Ywis, 

Is  neat 
As  a  Grecian  vase. 

A  single  star 

On  a  silver  bar ; 

Or  a  drop  of  dew 

With  a  sunbeam  through ; 

The  flash  of  a  stream 

Where  gold  sands  beam, 

Put  in  a  song, 

Long, 

And  far. 

For  you 
In  a  lyric  gleam. 

16f 


33Iue  anil  @oItJ. 


WATER  LILIES. 

T  TPON  the  surface  of  the  river  lie 

White  water  lilies;  left  to  drift  they  seem, 
Yet  changing  winds  and  currents  they  defy. 

So  may  my  faith,  deep-rooted,  rest  secure 
Upon  the  surface  of  life's  running  stream, 
And  every  change  of  circumstance  endure. 


17 


23Iu£  axiU  (3alti, 


THE  DRINKING  FOUNTAIN. 

LJERE  in  the  midst  of  a  city  street, 

Worn  by  the  tread  of  a  million  feet, 
Day  by  day  I  sing  my  song, 
Never  heard  by  the  hurrying  throng. 
Man  and  beast,  as  they  stop  to  drink, 
Have  no  time  on  my  song  to  think. 
Still  I  sing  as  a  minstrel  may : 
One  may  harken  and  hear  some  day. 

High  on  a  mountain  once  I  dwelt ; 
Heaven's  winds  were  all  I  felt; 
Mirrored  in  my  bosom  bright 
Day  by  day  the  '  king  of  light,' 
Night  by  night  the  '  starry  hosts ' — 
All  the  grandeur  heaven  boasts, — 
Storm  and  cloud  and  mountain  peak, 
Nothing  idle,  aimless,  weak; 
Calm  and  cool  and  clear  I  stood 
Thinking  all  was  grand  and  good. 


IR 


Blue  anb  ©olD. 


Once  a  stranger  passing  by 
Told  of  how  his  fellows  die : 
How  for  want  of  my  cool  wave 
Men  were  dying,  good, and  brave; 
Little  children  ;  beast  and  bird : 
And  I  treasured  every  word ; 
Pondered  them  for  many  a  day ; 
Longed  at  last  to  break  away 
From  my  fastness,  lone  and  high, 
Bearing  life  to  those  who  die- 
Down  the  mountain-side  I  slid ; 
In  the  forest  depths  I  hid ; 
Rippled  over  stones  and  sands ; 
Touched  the  edge  of  pleasant  lands, 
Murmuring  as  I  slipped  along 
Ever  some  soul-cheering  song; 
Giving  life  and  quenching  thirst, 
Till  my  heart  seemed  like  to  burst 
With  the  joys  at  my  dispense 
Like  another  Providence. 
And  at  last  I  reached  the  town, 
Where  the  sun's  rays  beating  down 
Parched  and  shriveled  everything  — 
Leaf  and  pauper,  beast  and  king. 

19 


98lue  antj  (golU. 


Here  at  morn  and  eve  I  play, 

Taking  pain  of  thirst  away ; 

Giving  free  as  I  used  to  take; 

Joy  is  mine  in  the  joy  I  make; 

Happier  far  am  I  than  when 

Strange  were  the  faces  of  beasts  and  men. 


20 


98lue  anil  (3a\ti, 


A   WINTER  SONG. 

LJERE  in  the  north  the  snow  lies  deep ; 

The  winds  are  keen  with  an  edge  that  bites ; 

The  days  are  short  and  long  the  nights ; 
And  all  that  is  gentle  is  dead  or  asleep. 

Afar  in  the  south  the  sunshine  falls ; 

The  winds  blow  soft  with  a  lover-like  kisa ; 

And  all  of  the  summer  I  fondly  miss 
Is  awake  and  out  of  the  distance  calls. 


IBUiz  anti  (golU. 


ACROSS  THE  SEA. 

A  CROSS  the  sea  your  verses  came 

From  that  dear  land  where  Shakespeare's  flame 
"Was  kindled  into  such  a  glow- 
All  other  bards  like  fireflies  show  — 

Mere  sparks,  but  sparks  of  light  the  same. 

Do  poets  there  still  hope  for  fame? 
Where  Burns  and  Keats  —  oh,  I  can  name 
So  many  whose  sweet  songs  still  blow 
Across  the  sea! 

Yes,  still  they  hope ;  and  who  shall  blame 
Their  courage,  or  their  song  defame, 

When  such  clear  notes  from  your  pipe  flow? 

The  muse  loves  English  soil,  I  know 
And  would,  if  only  your  song  came 
Across  the  sea. 


Blue  anlJ  (gtilti. 


TO  A  DREAMER. 

A  FTER  many  an  idle  day, 

Dreamer,  hasten  you  away. 
Build  a  house  to  baffle  woe : 
Winds  of  winter  when  they  blow 
Like  a  lash  will  strike  and  sting ; 
Bees  are  ever  busying ; 
While  you  indolently  dream 
Hear  the  constant  running  stream- 
Yonder,  in  the  marsh,  a  pool, 
Like  the  dead  eye  of  a  ghoul. 
Glitters  and  profanes  the  sky 
To  the  noisome  things  that  lie 
In  its  depths  of  pestilence. 

Go ;  and  as  you  journey  hence 
May  your  fondest  dreams  come  true. 
All  the  Ages  counsel  you. 


23 


Wiut  anti  (gollj. 


TREACHERY. 

[The  two-year-old  son  of  Capt.  Lawrence  O.  Lawson,  of 
the  United  States  Life  Saving  Station  at  Evanston,  HI.,  was 
drowned  within  sight  of  his  home  while  playing  on  the  lake 
shore.] 

Storm. 

"THE  seething  surf,  the  angry  sea  he  braves 
To  rescue  in  his  life-boat  men  of  brawn, 
Who  else  would  perish.     Set  of  sun,  or  dawn, 

Finds  him  prepared  to  battle  warring  waves. 

Calm. 
O  treacherous  sea,  to  fling  a  flag  of  truce, 

And  take  a  noble  f  oeman  unawares  ! 

To  seize  his  child,  the  sum  of  hopes  and  prayers, 
When  all  was  calm — to  watch  thee  little  use. 


91 


aSlue  anb  (Solli. 


TRE  MARCH  WIND. 

Q  MARCH  wind, 

What  is  it  grieves  thee  to  despair? 
Have  you  sinned 

That  furies  seek  thee  everywhere? 

Not  so ;  I  have  lost  my  little  ones  dear ; 
I  covered  them  softly  with  robe  of  white 
And  left  them  alone  of  a  winter  night. 
The  moon  I  left  burning  and  little  stars  bright — 
Oh,  kind  souls  hear ! 

I  left  them  alone,  without  a  fear, 

Tucked  snugly  into  their  soft  warm  bed, 
Then  off  on  an  errand  of  joy  I  sped. 
And  now  they  are  gone  and  I  wish  I  were  dead — 
Oh,  kind  souls  hear ! 

I  am  seeking  them  everywhere,  far  and  near, 
And  my  sighing  and  crying  and  shrieking  must 


25 


Blue  ant  (§oItJ. 


At  last  make  them  hear  as  I  come  with  a  gust 
And  wearing  a  veil  of  blinding  dust  — 
Oh,  kind  souls  hear ! 

The  March  wind  thus  her  story  told ; 
A  mortal  may  the  rest  unfold. 

Her  sad  soul,  weary  of  searching  vain, 

At  last  grew  still.     Then  fell  a  rain 

Of  tears,  and  tears  —  sweet  April  showers: 
And  then  she  smiled  and  found  May  flowers  — 

Her  little  ones  dear,  —  awake  again. 


26 


asiue  anU  @oltJ. 


SORROW  IN  SUMMER. 

"THE  glad  green  hills  uprise  to  sadden  me; 

The  happy  sunlit  vales  I  see  through  tears ; 

The  laughter-loving  brooks  offend  my  ears 
With  mirthful  music ;  every  gleeful  tree 
That  claps  its  myriad  hands  in  jollity 

The  spectre  of  some  dear,  dead  joy  appears ; 

The  dancing  sunbeams  mock  unnumbered  fears ., 
Though  soft  the  winds,  they  blow  full  bitterly. 

The  mask  of  gladness  Nature  gaily  wears 

No  more  deceives  the  eyes  made  clear  by  grief ; 

I  know  the  chill  her  secret  bosom  bears, 

Nor  Summer's  warmth,  nor  Beauty,  brings  relief: 

As  cold  and  white  and  pure  as  drifted  snow 

My  love 's  asleep  the  smiling  sod  below. 


27 


aSIue  antJ  (QaVH, 


LOVE  A  PRISONER. 

/^NE  day  Love  came.     I  welcomed  him. 

As  tenant  of  this  house  of  clay 
I  bade  him  stay. 
I  set  him  in  a  room  apart  — 
The  inmost  chamber  of  my  heart. 
For  servants,  at  his  beck  and  call, 
My  senses  all, 
While  hands  and  feet 
His  will  obey  with  joy  complete. 
Out  of  the  windows  he  can  gaze 
On  pleasant  days. 

But  when  it  rains  the  panes  are  dim  — 
It's  smiles  or  tears  because  of  him 
That  fill  my  eyes ; 
Yet,  always,  he 's  a  sweet  surprise ! 
My  prisoner  now,  I'll  keep  him  so, 
This  one-time  guest ; 
Should  he  escape  me,  high  and  low 
I'd  go  in  quest. 

That  darkened  chamber,  my  poor  heart, 
Would  be  a  tomb  should  he  depart. 


28 


Blue  antj  (SoltJ. 


UNSAID. 

CWEET  is  the  honey  the  bee  hath  stored, 

Hived  for  a  winter  day ; 
But  sweeter  than  all  of  the  precious  hoard 
The  drops  that  were  spilled  in  May. 

Fair  the  rose  in  the  garden  grows, 

Queen  of  the  lovely  band ; 
But  fairer  the  flower  that  never  knows 

The  touch  of  the  gardener's  hand. 

Words  of  love  are  honey  sweet, 

Each  word  is  a  flower  full  fair ; 
But  fairer  and  sweeter,  than  speech  completer. 

The  thoughts  that  love  doth  dare. 


Blue  antj  (golU. 


LOVE  IS  BEAD. 

jVAOAN,  ye  wind,  moan,  oh,  moan, 

(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea). 
Toss  ye  the  trees  till  they  groan, 
(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea). 
Love  is  dead, 
Tears  are  shed, 
Hope  has  fled ; 
Dole  ye  a  dirge  with  me. 

Where  have  they  buried  him,  wind? 

(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea), 
Search  through  the  world  till  ye  find, 
(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea). 
Now  quick  and  now  slow. 
Above  and  below. 
Away  let  us  go ! 
Where  he  is  buried  lay  me. 


30 


23Iue  anti  (golti. 


Gone  is  the  sweet  o*  th*  rose, 

(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea), 
Where  it  is  he  only  knows, 

(Fog  o'  th'  fen  and  salt  o'  th'  sea). 
The  skies  are  not  blue, 
Nor  sparkles  the  dew, 
All  hearts  are  untrue  — 
Naught  but  the  salt  o'  th'  sea ! 


31 


23lue  anlJ  @oltJ. 


THE  MUSICIAN. 

\A/HEN  some  great  master  lets  his  soul  go  free 
On  wings  of  music,  which  beat  silent  air 

Until  a  rose  tint  blushes  everywhere, 
And  heaven  is  bursting  with  the  melody ; 

Or  when  a  Patti,  or  a  Gerster,  sings, 
And  ears  are  lips  which  drink  the  liquid  sound 
Until  the  soul  in  music's  spell  is  bound. 

And  life  forgot,  with  all  the  care  it  brings ; 

Then  have  I  thought  no  greater  art  could  be ; 
Though  I  should  live  for  ages,  and  should  hear 
The  best  that  ever  came  to  mortal  ear. 

No  sounds  more  sweet  would  ever  visit  me. 
And  yet,  dear  heart,  thy  hand,  love-taught,  just  now 
Woke  sweeter  music  laid  upon  my  brow. 


aSIuf  antj  @oItJ. 


LOVE'S  ANSWER. 

\^ITH  lips  and  hands  Love  answereth- 
'Tis  *aye'  and  *aye'  and  never  *nay. 
How  will  it  be  some  other  day  ? 

What  will  Love's  answer  be  to  Death? 
The  same  quick  answer  to  the  end, 

For  Love  can  see  where  we  are  blind 
And  knows  that  Death  is  only  kind — 

To  immortality  a  friend. 


iSIue  anti  (3tiHi. 


CONSTANCY. 

I F  Age  should  set  his  finger  on  her  brow 

And  write  November  on  her  May-day  face; 

Should  rob  her  form  of  all  its  lovely  grace, 
And  turn  to  silver  locks  so  raven  now; 
Should  dim  her  lustrous  eyes  and  disallow 

Her  ears  all  hearing;  should  destroy,  efface, 

AU  things  that  in  her  memory  have  place. 
And  so  with  life  alone  her  frame  endow, — 
I  still  would  love  her,  still  her  servant  be, 
And  strive  to  merit  by  my  constancy 

The  place  she  gives  me  in  her  heart  to-day. 

To  there  abide  in  such  a  perfect  way 
A  life  of  changeless  love  would  leave  to  me 

A  debt  to  her  which  I  could  never  pay. 


U 


Blue  antj  (Solli. 


SONG. 


MIGHT  shadows  o'er  the  earth  are  falling, 
The  birds  their  good-night  carols  calling, 
The  twinkling  stars  in  heaven  appearing 
Have  filled  me  with  sweet  thoughts  endearing, 
Dear  love,  of  thee. 

My  heart,  like  night,  o'er  thee  is  brooding. 
My  thoughts  in  love  songs  are  intruding. 
Like  stars  my  hopes  in  heaven  are  shining. 
My  heart,  my  thoughts,  my  hopes  inclining, 
Dear  love,  to  thee. 

The  day  will  dawn,  the  stars  will  vanish ; 
Be  not  the  sun  my  hopes  to  banish ! 
Be  thou  my  day,  my  sweet  to-morrow, 
Bringing  much  joy  and  naught  of  sorrow. 
Dear  love,  with  thee. 


85 


Blue  anU  (Salti. 


WORDS  FOR  RUBINSTEIN'S  MELODY. 

*  T   LOVE  thee,  I  love  thee,'  my  heart  ever  cries ; 

'  I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,'  thy  true  heart  replies ; 
The  days  that  divide  us,  oh,  may  they  fly  fast 
And  bring  us  together  forever  at  last ! 
The  days  that  are  gone  I  will  never  forget. 
And  may  not  the  future  hold  sweeter  ones  yet? 

Oh,  sorrow  be  gone ! 

After  night  cometh  dawn, 
And  loving  thee,  loving  thee,  what  can  befall? 
Thy  love  like  God's  sunshine  brighteneth  all. 

*  I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,'  to-morrows  untold ; 

'  I  love  thee,  I  love  thee,*  will  never  grow  old. 
O  heart  of  my  heart !  one  brief  moment  with  thee 
And  ages  of  sorrow  forgotten  would  be ; 
What  bliss  will  be  mine  when  the  sad  days  have  past 
And  we  are  together  forever  at  last ! 

Oh,  sorrow  be  gonel 

After  night  cometh  dawn. 
And  loving  thee,  loving  thee,  what  can  befall? 
Thy  love  like  God's  sunshine  brighteneth  all. 


36 


mm  anlJ  <3alti. 


IN  MA  YTIME. 

CWEETHEART,  my  sweetheart  forever! 

Sweetheart,  I'm  thinking  o£  you; 
Springtime  will  never  come,  never, 

But  love  will  awaken  anew. 
The  buds  and  the  blossoms  of  Maytime 

Are  but  the  sweet  signs  of  the  joy 
That  fill  me  with  dreams  in  the  daytime — 

Dear  visions  I  knew  as  a  boy. 

Sweetheart,  the  days  that  have  gladdened 

My  heart  with  a  rapture  divine. 
Sweeten  the  sorrows  that  saddened 

Brief  moments  of  your  life  and  mine ; 
And  now,  with  the  sun  shining  brightly. 

And  every  wind  stirring  a  joy, 
I  bless  the  tears  fallen  so  lightly  — 

They've  freshened  the  love  of  your  boy. 


37 


Blue  antJ  ©oltJ. 


RHYME-BLOOM. 

UERE'S  a  blossom,  lady  mine, 

Time  can't  change  —  'tis  ever  thine ; 
Heat  of  summer,  frost  of  fall. 
Cannot  wither  —  seasons  all 
Keep  its  fragrance,  color,  pride, 
Just  for  thee  and  none  beside. 
Take  it,  pray,  and  let  it  be 
Emblem  of  my  constancy. 

When  your  heart  is  struck  with  grief 
And  the  tears  that  bring  relief 
Fall  upon  this  blossom,  dear, 
Fairer,  fresher  'twill  appear. 
So  my  love  would  richer  be 
For  a  sorrow  come  to  thee. 
Try  me,  sweet,  oh,  test  my  heart! 
Know  how  dear  to  me  thou  art ! 

"When  with  joy  your  heart  doth  bound 
And  you  scatter  sunshine  round, 


38 


Blue  antj  @oH». 


Light  and  warmth  will  then  unfold 
Sweeter  sweets  than  ere  were  told. 
Love  like  mine  would  only  know 
Full  perfection  loving  so ; 
Happiness  would  be  your  share 
Whether  winds  were  foul  or  fair. 


iSlue  antj  &oVti, 


RECOMPENSE. 

A  S  some  great  tree  that  deeper,  day  by  day, 
Takes  root  into  the  earth — some  hardy  oak 
That  firmer  stands  for  every  tempest  stroke, 
And  gjrapples  with  huge  rocks  which  bar  its  way, — 
Doth  push  abroad,  into  the  winds  that  sway. 

New  branches  and  new  buds,  which  suns  provoke 
To  leaves  of  living  green,  until  they  cloak 
Its  trunk  in  beauty,  and  new  strength  display ; 

So  does  the  human  soul,  when  torn  with  grief. 
Grown  stronger  for  the  trial  and  the  pain, 

Beach  out  for  truths  that  know  not  time  nor 
change. 
And  hold  them  fast,  until  they  bring  relief, 
While  hope  and  gladness  blossom  out  again 
In  beauty  new  and  wonderful  and  strange. 


10 


muz  antj  ®olU. 


IN  SIGHT. 

I  ONG  years,  beloved,  held  us  far  apart ; 
A  waste  of  days,  the  goal  beyond  our  sight, 
We  only  knew  by  our  firm  faith  in  right. 

That  somehow,  some  day,  bringfing  heart  to  heart, 

Our  ways  would  meet  and  nevermore  would  part, 
And  we  would  both  be  happy,  bearing  light 
To  make  life's  journey  for  each  other  bright, 

And  knowing  balm  to  heal  each  burning  smart. 

But  now,  oh  joy !  beloved,  see  the  goal! 
Behold  the  glory  of  that  mountain  peak ! 

Ah,  sweet,  your*  eyes  are  lit  with  happy  tears, 
A  light  is  in  them  laying  bare  your  soul. . 
A  little  while,  dear  love,  and  all  we  seek 

Will  then  be  ours,  to  crown  the  coming  years. 


41 


3SIue  anti  (Balb, 


TRANSITION. 

\A/ITH  happy  hands  I  formed  a  frame  arouiul 

A  dear  sweet  face,  and  gazed  into  the  eyes 
Their  utmost  hidden  depths  of  blue  to  sound, 

In  search  of  those  sweet  springs  of  paradise 
Whereat  the  thirsting  soul  may  satisfy 

Itself  in  pools  of  light  and  love  and  life. 
I  thought  I  had  discovered  where  do  lie 

Those  secret  fountains,  still,  unstirred  by  strife, — 

When,  suddenly.  Death  trailed  her  shadowy  shroud : 
My  face  grew  grave  and  pale ;  I  loosed  my  hands, 

And,  looking  in  Love's  face,  where,  like  a  cloud 
Before  the  sun,  stood  Wonder,  thought  whose 
bands 

Would  Death  first  loose,  and  prayed  that  hers  first  be 

And  she  be  spared  the  pain  of  mourning  me. 


42 


53Iue  antJ  (§olti. 


SEPTEMBER  THE  TWENTY-FIFTH. 

DERHAPS  ill  all  this  cruel  changeful  world 
There  may  be  some  who  hate  this  blessed  day 
Because  it  brought  them  terror  and  dismay, 

Or  from  some  seat  of  fortune  found  them  hurled ; 

Or  some,  with  joy's  bright  banner  closely  furled. 
May  keep  the  day  in  sadness,  giving  way 
To  grievous  tears,  that  burn  as  deep  to-day 

As  when  from  sorrow's  source  they  first  were  whirled. 

Oh,  you  that  hate  the  day,  and  speak  it  ill. 
Be  sure  it  brought  a  gem  beyond  all  price ; 

And  you  who  weep,  uncomforted,  be  still, — 
An  angel  came  this  day  from  paradise: 

Upon  this  day  my  dearest  love  was  bom, — 

The  rarest  jewel  day  hath  ever  worn. 


43 


33luc  antj  (3alti, 


A  SUMMER  MORNING. 

A  SKY  of  blue  with  white  sails  set 

To  stay  the  soft  south  wind ; 
A  carpet  green,  that  treasures  yet 
The  gems  Night  left  behind. 

A  bird  has  lit  on  yonder  bough : 
She  scolds  her  mate,  who  sings 

Anew  each  tender  sacred  vow, 
And  tells  the  love  he  brings. 

Upon  a  grassy  knoll  I  lie, — 
The  green  leaves  swing  in  glee ; 

Far  down  the  east  the  gentle  sky 
Presses  the  waves  toward  me. 


44 


98Iue  antj  (3alt}, 


VACATION. 

UAPPY  the  days  that  Summer's  lap  doth  hold, 
The  idle  days,  the  days  that  pass  like  dreams, 
Leaving  no  trace,  or  trace  so  faint  it  seems 

No  more  enduring  than  the  message  told 

By  marks  upon  a  beach  by  breakers  rolled ; 
The  past  is  lost,  the  future  only  gleams 
Far-distant,  silvern,  like  the  moon's  pale  beams, 

To  check  ambition  with  its  temperate  cold. 

Only  the  present  lives  vacation-time. 

The  wheeling  shade,  the  unconstant  breeze,  the 
sun, 
And  time  to  weave  some  fancy  into  rhyme  — 

So  swiftly  days  their  silent  courses  run ! 
And  when,  at  last,  these  dear  delights  depart, 
Lo !  strength  has  come  to  arm  and  brain  and  heart. 


45 


98Iue  anil  <3a\ti. 


LITTLE  TBAVEBSE  BAY. 

P\  BAREST  to  me  of  all  these  inland  seas 
Art  thou,  great  Michigan.     Thy  bosom  bears 
Perpetual  grandeur.     Every  hour  prepares 

New  glories  for  the  recompense  of  these 

That  follow  close  the  footsteps  of  the  breeze, 
And  loss  is  gain,  for  nothing  past  compares 
With  thy  dear  present — in  such  equal  shares 

Dost  thou  reveal  thy  countless  treasuries. 

Before  me  now  thy  greens  and  purples  show. 
Dissolving  bands  that  reach  from  shpre  to  shore ; 

Thy  wide  expanse  is  flecked  as  if  with  snow 

That  melts  at  once  yet  seems  to  come  the  more ; 

The  waves  roll  in  and  stretch  their  arms  to  reach 

The  restless  sands  upon  the  wind-blown  beach. 


46 


Blue  anlJ  (3a\i. 


PROFESSOR  DAVID  SWING. 

URIEND  of  the  world  he  was;  no  living  thing 
But  knew  his  love ;  God's  sunshine  in  his  heart 
Made  it  a  place  of  heaven  the  counterpart 

Where  greatest  souls  their  highest  thoughts  might 
bring, 

Or  even  the  lowly  cricket  chirp  and  sing. 
Assured  of  welcome ;  for  he  knew  the  art 
Of  nature,  felt  the  greening  grass-blade  start, 

And  heralded  the  advent  of  the  spring. 

Now  he  is  gone,  the  friend  of  art  and  song, 
Who  loved  the  earth,  the  air,  the  sea,  the  sky; 
Whose  faith  in  God  and  in  his  brother  man 
Will  make  his  name  to  be  remembered  long. 

Like  men  of  old  he  spake.    His  light,  held  high. 
Made  white  the  pathway  wheresoe'er  he  ran. 


47 


Blue  antj  (SoltJ. 


THE  COUNTRY  SCHOOL. 

AT  this  old  desk  some  rugged  urchin  sat 

To  learn  his  letters  and  such  words  as  '  cat '; 
His  sun-browned  feet  were  bare  upon  the  floor, 
Which  knew  no  polish  save  such  smoothing  o'er 
As  twenty  pairs  of  restless  feet  may  give 
While  wisdom  wriggles  through  each  tousled  sieve. 
Perchance  the  master  was  some  cultured  man 
Whose  mind,  though  mighty,  had  not  solved  God's 

plan 
To  raise  him  from  this  humble,  tiresome  trust 
To  one  all  conflict,  glory,  heat,  and  dust, — 
Some  future  Garfield  to  attract  the  eye 
By  great  achievements,  and  at  last  to  die 
Mourned  by  his  country;  or  some  struggling  soul 
Who  through  this  gate  must  pass  to  reach  his  goal — 
Who  lived  unconscious  of  the  pent-up  song 
His  lips  would  utter  to  be  treasured  long. 

Through  open  windows  hear  the  drowsy  hum 
Of  insects,  now  that  balmy  June  has  come. 


48 


ISIne  anb  @oltJ. 


Soft  winds  are  stirring,  and  the  fearless  fiy 

Has  just  begun  his  pestering  ways  to  try. 

The  lessons  lag,  and  restless  hands  and  feet 

Find  idle  pastime  on  the  floor  and  seat ; 

And  now  the  master's  face  turns  toward  the  wall; 

His  glance  is  followed  by  the  eyes  of  aU ; 

The  clock,  persistent,  slow,  but  ever  sure, 

Will  soon  release  the  bonds  they  now  endure, 

And  down  the  dusty  lane  and  over  field 

Will  lad  and  lass  go  loitering,  till  the  yield 

Of  sunshine  lessens  and  long  shadows  fall 

And  milking-time  and  supper  homeward  call. 

And  now  'tis  winter,  and  the  tingling  air 
Upon  each  window  makes  frost-tracings  rare. 
The  wood-box  bursts  beneath  the  stored-up  heat ; 
The  round  stove  glows,  and  forty  snow-wet  feet 
Are  drying,  and  the  little  room  is  full 
Of  odors  of  burned  leather  and  steamed  wool. 
Along  the  wall,  after  each  one  is  wrung. 
Are  rows  of  leggings,  mittens,  tippets  hung. 
The  promised  pleasure  of  a  *  spelling  bee ' 
Will  make  to-day  a  day  of  jollity. 


i3Iue  anil  (3a\ti, 


SLEEP. 

C  LEEP  is  a  mystic  river  no  mortal  eye  hath  seen, 
With  poppy  flowers  are  nodding  the  banks  it 

flows  between; 
It  finds  its  source  in  silence  where  stars  together 

sing, 
And  down  to  weary  mortals  the  message  hastes  to 

bring. 

The  boats  upon  its  bosom,  that  float,  an  idle  throng, 
Are  dreams  that  to  the  rainbow  or  to  the  moon 

belong ; 
They  're  drifting  toward  the  harbor  outside  the  port 

of  day 
Where  morning  light  will  scatter  each  vision  barque 

away. 


60 


Blue  antj  (3alti, 


IN  DREAMLAND. 

LJUSH-A-BY,  baby,  close  thine  eyes, 

Mother  will  sing  sweet  lullabies ; 
Softly  the  cradle  will  be  rocked 
Till  pretty  eyelids  sleep  as  locked, 
And  you  are  away  in  Dreamland, 
In  Dreamland. 

Hush-a-by,  little  one,  daylight  dies 
"While  I  am  singing  lullabies. 
Where  doe^  it  vanish,  baby  dear? 
Into  that  land  so  far,  so  near, 

The  land  of  sleep,  called  Dreamland, 
Called  Dreamland. 

Hush-a-by,  babe.     What  dims  mine  eyes 
While  I  am  singing  lullabies  ? 
What  if  the  darkness  knew  no  day ! 
What  if  my  darling  stayed  away 
To  evermore  dwell  in  Dreamland, 
In  Dreamland! 


61 


mint  ant]  ((loll). 


SPANISH  LULLABY. 

(A.  D.  1493.) 

pRETTY,  my  Pedro,  a  bird  of  the  sea 
Long  ago  brought  a  sweet  message  to  me 
The  waters  are  ever  repeating: 
'Sweetheart,'  they're  saying,  'a  beautiful  land 
"Westward  is  waiting  a  queen  to  command ; 
.  From  thither  your  lover  sends  greeting ! ' 

Pretty,  my  Pedro,  your  father  unfurled 
Sail  with  Columbus  to  find  a  new  world 

Afar  where  the  sunset  is  glowing. 
Then  I  was  fearful  the  future  to  scan; 
Now  I  am  hopeful  with  you,  little  man. 

And  visions  of  promise  are  growing. 

Pretty,  my  Pedro,  your  sails,  too,  are  set: 
Sleep,  the  Good  Master,  will  guide  you,  my  pet, 

To  realms  of  beautiful  splendor. 
Sure  as  your  waking  his  coming  will  be. 
Father  to  you,  sweet,  and  husband  to  me, 

And  lover  so  true  and  so  tender. 


52 


iSIue  ant)  (3aUi. 


SWINGING  TO  DREAMLAND. 

C  WING,  baby,  swing  to  Dreamland ; 

There,  sweet,  in  slumber  go ; 
My  song  will  blend  in  seemland 

With  songs  the  angels  know ; 
Thy  hammock  will  be  golden 

And  like  the  crescent  moon, 
And  in  its  hollow  holden 

Thou  wilt  be  sailing  soon. 

GrO  swinging,  swaying,  swinging, 

High  up  among  the  stars ; 
At  mother's  wish  upspringing 

Shall  sleep  let  down  the  bars ; 
Although  thy  hammock  golden 

Is  like  the  crescent  tnoon, 
Thou  wilt,  in  my  arms  holden, 

Wake  bright  and  laughing  soon. 


63 


38I«e  anl)  (golti. 


MOTHER,  MOON,  AND  STABS. 

HTHE  moon  is  bending  o'er  the  sea, 

As  I,  my  babe,  bend  over  thee; 
She  rocks  it  gently  to  and  fro, 
As  I  now  rock  you  —  so,  and  so; 
The  wind,  her  breath,  sings  softly,  '  Dear 
Sleep  sweetly  now,  for  I  am  near.* 

The  stars  look  down  upon  the  lea, 
As  I,  my  babe,  look  down  on  thee ; 
The  earth 's  at  rest ;  they  vigils  keep. 
As  I  watch  o'er  thy  peaceful  sleep. 
And  through  the  silence  I  can  hear, 
'Sleep  sweetly  now,  for  we  are  near.' 


64 


93Iue  anU  (goUi, 


HEIGH-HO!  MY  LADDIE,  0! 

j^EIGH  -  HO !  my  laddie,  O !       ' 

'Tis  bedtime  now  for  dearie; 
By-lo !  away  we  go 

To  rest  the  limbs  so  weary. 
At  last  my  boy  grows  tired  of  play 
That  fills  with  joy  the  live-long  day, 
And  welcomes  night  when  shadows  gray 
From  the  underworld  come  stealing. 

Heigh-ho !  my  laddie,  O ! 

The  stars  a  watch  are  keeping; 
By-lo !  they  're  shining  so 

To  guard  my  boy  while  sleeping. 
And  soon,  relit,  the  world  all  new, 
With  skies  to  match  your  eyes  of  blue, 
Another  day  will  dawn  for  you. 
Every  hour  new  joys  revealing. 


55 


Blue  anD  (3alti, 


SUPPOSE. 

C  UPPOSE  you  were  reading  some  wonderful  tome 

That  led  you  way  back  in  the  past, 
Till  with  feasting  and  fighting  in  Athens  or  Rome 

You'd  forget  in  what  age  you  were  cast; 
Suppose  while  thus  '  busy '  you  heard  a  wee  voice 

And  felt  a  small  hand  on  your  knee, 
Would  the  world  of  the  present  or  past  be  your  choice 

At  the  sound  of  that  little  'take  me'? 
Oh,  come  now  !  Be  honest !   What  would  you  do  ? 
You  'd  '  take '  Tiny  Toddler  and  hug  him  to  you. 

Suppose  you  had  been  in  the  city  all  day, 

In  the  trouble  and  turmoil  of  trade, 
Till  your  brain  was  so  weary  you  felt  the  dismay 

Of  an  overtaxed  surface-car  jade ; 
Suppose  you  were  smoking  and  taking  your  ease, 

And  in  should  come  little  Boy  Blue 
To '  play  horsey '  with  papa,  and  '  wouldn't  he  please 

To  kick  up'  and  such  antics  go  through? 

Oh,  come  now  1  Be  honest !   What  would  you  do  ? 

You'd  prance  and  '■play  horsey^  with  little  Boy 

Blue! 

56 


ISlue  ant)  (§oltJ. 


Suppose  you  were  thinking  of  serious  things, 

Of  questions  mortality  asks, 
Till  life,  with  the  problems  perplexing  it  brings. 

Seemed  a  round  of  impossible  tasks ; 
Suppose  while  thus  puzzled,  a  frown  on  your  brow 

And  your  face  looking  solemn  and  grim. 
Little  laddie  insists  you  shall  be  a  '  bow-wow ' 

Or  sing  '  Hey,  diddle,  diddle ! '  to  him ! 
Oh,  come  now  !    Be  honest .'    What  would  you  do  ? 
You  'd '  bark '  or  recite  Mother  Goose,  would  n't  you  ? 


iSlue  anti  (^allj. 


MY  RIVAL. 

IJER  heart  was  all  mine  until  he  came  along, 

My  rival,  the  hero  of  this  little  song. 
With  so  much  against  him  I  marvel  that  he 
For  even  a  moment  can  dispossess  me. 
He  is  not  so  tall  by  some  inches  (my  height 
For  a  number  of  years  has  been  her  delight). 
Has  never  the  sign  of  a  beard  on  his  chin 
And  the  hair  on  his  head  is  decidedly  thin; 
Yet,  the  very  first  time  she  saw  him,  she  said, 
*The  darling,  I  love  him  ! '  and  tears  for  joy  shed. 

His  eyes  they  are  blue,  and  blue  eyes  in  a  man 
She  detests  as  only  a  good  woman  can ; 
Regarding  his  teeth,  about  them  the  less  said 
The  better — he  has  not  a  tooth  in  his  head! 
He  not  only  chews  gum  but  chews  gums,  which  is 

worse, — 
A  sin  she  abhors  as  a  positive  curse. 
My  rival  ?     I  smiled  —  a  ridiculous  thought ! 
And  into  her  presence  the  strange  prince  brought. 
And  the  very  first  moment  she  saw  him  she  said, 
'  The  darling,  I  love  him ! '  and  tears  for  joy  shed. 

08 


i3luE  anlJ  @oIt>. 


My  rival !     Believe  me,  I  love  him  full  well 
Or  defects  in  his  make-up  I  never  would  tell. 
The  place  he  has  taken  I  want  him  to  keep, 
Close,  close  to  her  heart !  —  Hear  her  sing  him  to 

sleep ! 
And  yet,  notwithstanding,  I  want  you  to  know 
He 's  a  rival  unrivaled.     Go  search  high  and  low 
(Don't  look  in  your  cradle  for  any  such  joy) 
And  find  if  you  can  such  a  sweet  haby  boy. 
No  wonder  the  moment  she  saw  him  she  said, 
'The  darling,  I  love  him ! '  and  tears  for  joy  shed 


09 


33luc  antJ  ©olU. 


DORCHESTER  AND  DOROTHY. 

nORCHESTER,  Dorothy,  lad  and  lass, 
Brother  and  sister,  it  came  to  pass, 

Never  each  other  knew ; 
Lassie  is  five  years,  while  laddie  'd  be  seven  — 
One  upon  earth  and  the  other  in  heaven, — 

So  these  children  grew. 

Dorothy,  Dorchester  (sweetest  of  names) 
Never  together  played  pretty  games, — 

Dorothy  plays  them  alone. 
She  does  not  miss  him  ;  she  couldn't,  you  know. 
But  mother,  who  watches  her,  misses  him  so  — 

Longs  for  her  little  'my  own!' 

Dorchester,  Dorothy !     Many  the  night 
Both  in  her  arms  have  been  folded  tight. 

Sung  to  and  put  into  bed. 
Only  the  one !     She  knows  there  are  two  — 
Mother-love  truly  such  wonders  can  do !  — 

Dorchester  seemeth  not  dead. 


60 


38Iue  antj  (Salts. 


Dorothy,  Dorchester,  always,  I  know, 
Side  by  side  in  her  heart  do  grow. 

Giving  her  heart  a  joy  ; 
But  first  to  awaken  a  love  divine, 
First  to  make  sorrow  a  friend  benign, 

First  in  her  heart  is  her  boy. 


M 


Blue  antj  (golli. 


CHRISTMAS  IS  COMING. 

QHRISTMAS  is  coming!     Oh,  my!     Oh,  my! 
Look  out,  little  man,  don't  cry!     Don't  cry! 

For  Santa  Glaus  loveth  a  brave  little  boy, 

And  surely  remembers  all  such  with  a  toy 
Or  a  game  or  a  book 
Or  a  long  candy  crook  — 

Never  mind  if  your  tumble  did  hurt,  don't  cry! 

Christmas  is  coming,  and  my  little  lad 
Will  forget  every  troublesome  bump  he  has  had ! 
It  bringeth  a  balm  for  each  bruise,  and  the  smart 
Of  the  saddest  of  griefs  for  the  time  will  depart. 

The  joy  of  the  bells 

In  each  bosom  swells, 
For  the  goodness  of  giving  makes  every  heart  glad- 
Yes,  Christmas  is  coming!     That  wonderful  day 
The  children  delight  in  is  not  far  away. 


62 


Blue  antj  (3alti. 


Then  candies  and  cookies  and  wagons  and  sleds, 
And  jumping-jacks,  whistles,  and  dolls'  little  beds 
Are  scattered  abroad, 
And  the  children  applaud 
Each  treasure  from  Santa  Claus'  wonderful  sleigh. 


63 


98I«e  anti  (3a\ti, 


MOTHER  GOOSE. 

"THERE 'S  a  book  we  all  know  and  can  qaote  by 
the  page, 

No  other  book  stands  in  its  place ; 
In  childhood,  in  manhood,  in  youth,  and  in  age. 

Its  jingling  wisdom  we  trace. 
'Tis  a  book  that  we  love  (you'll  do  well  to  confess) 

No  matter  what  others  we  use. 
And  its  title  is — what?     Now  couldn't  you  guess? 

Of  course !     It  is  old  Mother  Goose. 

The  first  time  you  read  it  you  skipped  all  the  words. 

The  pictures  alone  took  your  eye  ; 
Those  wonderful  pictures  of  beasts  and  of  birds. 

Of  creatures  that  crawl,  walk,  or  fly  ; 
You  cared  not  a  bit  for  the  wisdom  and  wit, 

Nor  detected  the  rhyming  was  loose  — 
On  the  floor  by  the  hour  you  would  silently  sit 

Enchanted  by  dear  Mother  Goose. 

There  was  Old  King  Cole,  the  merry  old  soul, 
And  Miss  Muffet  with  curds  and  whey ; 

64 


J5\ue  antJ  @oHi. 


The  men  who  went  sailing  the  sea  in  a  bowl, 

And  the  lady-bug  idling  away ; 
There  was  Little  Boy  Blue,  and  Jack  Horner  too. 

And  Miss  Flinders  who  suflEered  abuse  ; 
And  the  birds  in  the  pie,  and  Cry,  Baby,  Cry  — 

They  're  still  living  in  good  Mother  Goose. 

Mother  Goose  does  not  rank  very  high  in  the  list 

Of  best  books  —  oh,  give  her  a  prop  ! 
Come  help  me  to  maintain  her  claims  —  to  insist 

That  she 's  given  a  place  near  the  top. 
There  may  be  some  better  (how  many  are  worse !) 

Her  maligners  will  cry  for  a  truce 
If  we  take  up  her  standard  and  stoutly  rehearse 

The  glories  of  good  Mother  Goose. 


» 


Blue  antj  (iollJ. 


GRANDMOTHER'S  SWEETHEART. 

QRANDMOTHER'S  sweetheart,  here  is  a  line 

She  sendeth  thee  for  a  valentine. 
Loving  thee  more  than  her  heart  can  tell 
(I  wonder  i£  you  love  her  so  well  ?  ) 
With  every  letter  she  sends  a  kiss. 
Her  eyes  grow  dim  while  she 's  writing  this, 
For,  Sweetheart  Fanny,  you  must  know 
It  maketh  the  heart  ache  loving  so. 

Grandmother's  sweetheart  liveth  afar 
Down  by  the  bay  where  the  big  ships  are, 
And  never  a  ship  does  grandmother  see 
But  beareth  her  message  of  love  to  thee. 
The  whole  great  wonderful  fleet  of  ships 
That  lie  at  rest  in  their  quiet  slips, 
With  their  caverns  and  caves  of  space  all  told 
The  love  that  she  bears  thee  could  not  hold. 

So,  Sweetheart  Fanny,  a  little  while 
Grandmother's  love  on  thee  will  smile  ; 


iSIue  antJ  <3a\i. 


Then,  drifting  out  on  an  unknown  sea, 
In  the  great  beyond  she  will  wait  for  thee. 
And  others  will  come  and  praise  your  eyes, 
And  tell  their  love  with  a  million  sighs  ; 
But  never  a  one  of  them  all  will  know 
A  deeper  love  than  her  heart  can  show. 


67 


Bltie  anti  (3a\t}, 


RHYME  OF  THE  COVERLET. 

J^OCKABY,  rockaby, 
Winter 's  in  town  — 
Cover  the  baby  up  warm. 

Under  a  drift  of  white  wool  soft  as  down 
What  will  he  know  of  the  storm  ? 

Rockaby,  rockaby, 

Springtime  is  near. 
When  baby  goeth  to  sleep 

Under  this  blossomy  coverlet,  dear, 
Let  not  a  chill  wind  creep. 

Kockaby,  rockaby, 

Summer  unbars  — 
Cover  the  baby  aright. 

Under  a  canopy  sprinkled  with  stars 
What  will  ho  know  of  the  night  ? 

Rockaby,  rockaby, 

Autumn  is  bold  — 
Cover  him  up  like  a  king : 

Robes  of  purple  and  cloth  of  gold ; 
Tribute  and  service  bring. 


?8Iue  anlj  (Baltt, 


TICK-  TOOK  L  ULLAB  Y. 

"THERE 'S  a  little  tired  shoe  and  a  little  mussed 
frock, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock, 
And  there  on  the  floor  lies  a  little  limp  sock, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock; 
They're  glad,  I  am  sure,  after  going  all  day, 
To  rest  from  the  labor  and  pleasure  of  play, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock. 

How  quietly  sleep  comes  —  count  the  clock ! 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock,  . 
Comes  in  at  the  door  with  never  a  knock, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock, 
"With  no  one  to  greet  him,  welcomest  guest! 
He  enters  and  giveth  his  dear  ones  rest, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock. 

Perhaps  he  is  near  us  while  we  rock, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock. 
And  soon  will  disclose  his  wonderful  stock, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock. 
In  exchange  for  thy  store  of  weariness. 
His  bag  of  dreams  he  will  leave,  I  guess, 

Tick-tock,  tick-tock,  tick-tock. 


98Iue  antj  (SollJ. 


NAUTICAL  NED. 

T  SING  of  a  toddling  mariner  chap, 

With  wide  flowing  trousers  and  sailor's  cap; 
His  little  warm  jacket,  with  buttons  and  braid, 
Bespeaks  the  bold  rover  to  run  a  blockade. 
No  longer  miscall  him  —  when  all  has  been  said, 
His  name  is  not  Edward,  but  Nautical  Ned; 
A  wee  little,  free  little  fellow  is  he. 
And  yet  he 's  a  regular  man  of  the  sea. 

I  question  if  ever  he  walked  a  ship's  deck. 
Or  felt  the  salt  spray  on  his  cheek  or  his  neck ; 
And  surely  those  blue  eyes  never  have  scanned 
The  far-off  horizon  for  long-looked-for  land. 
"What  odds  if  never  the  sea  he  has  crossed, 
In  a  tub  of  a  boat  been  rudely  tossed  ? 
He  tosses  the  sea  in  a  tub  of  his  own, 
While  the  waves  dash  high  and  the  women  make 
moan! 

The  most  wonderful  cruiser  ever  afloat 

Is  the  world  —  she  is  truly  a  marvellous  boat! 


53lue  antj  (go  It). 


And  sailing  out  on  the  sea  of  Time, 

So  tempest-tossed,  to  another  clime, 

It  is  sweet  to  think  that  such  sailors  are 

As  Nautical  Ned,  the  jolly  young  tar! 

With  the  great,  good  Captain,  and  such  as  these. 

Who  cares  for  the  wind-swept  stormy  seas  ? 


iSIue  anti  (@oIti. 


LITTLE  ELIZABETH. 

T  ITTLE  Elizabeth,  how  shall  I  say 

The  joy  you  put  in  my  heart  one  day 
When  I  was  in  Gotham,  a  thousand  miles 
From  home  and  the  light  of  my  dear  one's  smiles  ? 
Your  cherub  face  with  the  winsome  eyes 
At  first  was  full  of  a  shy  surprise, 
But  soon  you  gave  me  your  heart,  and  then 
I  was  here  at  home  with  Boy  Blue  again. 

Little  Elizabeth,  do  you  know 

(You  surely  will  when  you  older  grow) 

How  lonely  it  is  when  one  is  away 

A  month,  a  week,  or  a  single  day, 

From  those  who  love  us  and  whom  we  love? 

And  how  we  welcome,  all  else  above, 

A  face,  a  hand-touch,  a  tone  of  voice 

That  takes  us  home  where  our  hearts  rejoice? 

Little  Elizabeth,  motherless  child, 
I  wonder  if  she  is  reconciled  ? 


H 


Blue  anTi  (§olti. 

I  wonder  if  mothers,  when  they  die, 

Look  down  on  their  loved  ones  from  on  high? 

Perhaps,  in  walking  the  streets  of  gold, 

A  little  child  she  may  behold 

And  fold  it  close  to  her  heart,  and  then 

Be  at  home  on  earth  with  her  babe  again. 


36Iue  anb  @oIU. 


ALONE  WITH' THE  BABY. 

A  LONE  with  the  baby  one  whole  day, 

So  mama  may  go  to  the  Fair. 
Papa  and  Rowland!     What  did  you  say? 

Afraid  we  '11  be  lonesome  ?     Do  n't  care ! 
All  day  together.     My,  what  fun ! 
The  day  will  be  done 
Before  it 's  begun, 
For  Rowland  and  I  are  a  pair ! 

I  've  a  '  list '  in  my  pocket  of  what  I  'm  to  do, 

And  I  notice  some  moments  to  spare. 
I  like  to  take  care  of  the  baby,  don't  you? 

I  'd  rather  than  go  to  the  Fair. 
I  tell  you  the  baby  and  I  will  have  fun! 
The  day  will  be  done 
Before  it 's  begun, 
For  Rowland  and  I  are  a  pair ! 

When  ten  o'clock  comes  I  'm  to  give  him  a  drink 
From  '  the  glass  on  the  bureau '  right  there, 

At  eleven  the  broth,  oh,  help  me  to  think ! 
And  a  '  gem ' —  so  my  orders  declare. 

74 


Blue  anti  (goltJ. 


When  he's  hungry  I'll  feed  him !  What  glorious  fun ! 
The  day  will  be  done 
Before  it 's  begun, 
For  Rowland  and  I  are  a  pair ! 

At  twelve  we  go  riding  —  he  '11  be  *  in  the  push,' 

Which  I  '11  push  with  the  greatest  of  care ; 
At  one  I  'm  to  sing  to  him  '  Hush-a-By,  Hush ! ' 

Until  dream  visions  float  in  the  air. 
When  he 's  sleepy  I  '11  sing  him  to  sleep !   More  fun  ? 
The  day  will  be  done 
Before  it 's  begun, 
For  Rowland  and  I  are  a  pair ! 

At  two  —  but,  good  gracious  !  you  need  not  expect 

More  details  of  this  little  affair ; 
The  youngster 's  awake,  if  I  'm  not  incorrect. 

To  begin  the  good  time  we  're  to  share. 
I  hope  his  ideas  are  like  mine  —  about  fun  ! 
Before  it 's  begun 
I  wish  the  day  done 
Although  we  're  so  much  of  a  pair ! 


75 


muz  ant  (3olti, 


SWINGING  SONG. 

A  HAMMOCK  gently  swinging, 

A  mother  bends  above ; 
She  to  her  babe  is  singing 

With  heart  all  full  of  love. 
The  little  maiden  swaying 

Beneath  the  greenwood  tree 
Has  set  her  heart  to  saying, 
*  Love  me  as  I  love  thee.' 

So  swaying,  swinging  slowly, 
Her  loved  one  to  and  fro, 
Her  heart  with  rapture  holy 
Out  to  her  babe  doth  go ; 
And  while  her  thoughts  are  straying 

Among  the  days  to  be. 
Her  heart  is  ever  saying, 
*  Love  me  as  I  love  thee.* 

Another  hammock  swinging, 

A  lover  bends  above. 
He  to  his  sweetheart  singing 

With  heart  all  full  of  love ; 

76 


^lue  anil  ®olU. 


The  lovely  maiden  swaying 

Beneath  the  greenwood  tree 
Has  set  his  heart  to  saying, 
'  Love  me  as  I  love  thee.' 
So  swaying,  swinging  slowly 
His  loved  one  to  and  fro, 
His  heart  with  rapture  holy 

Out  to  his  love  doth  go ; 
And  while  his  thoughts  are  straying 

Among  the  days  to  he, 
His  heart  is  ever  saying, 
'  Love  me  as  I  love  thee.* 


T7 


98Iue  antj  ©ollj. 


STUMBLE  TOE. 

10  OK  out,  little  hoy  !     Wherever  you  go 
Memember  the  story  of  Stumble  Toe. 

There  once  was  a  dear  little  child  (ah,  me/) 
And  he  had  ten  toes  that  were  straight  as  could  be, 
And  every  one  was  pink  and  white 
Where  mother  had  kissed  it  morning  and  night ; 
And  each  little  toe  had  a  name  (oh,  woe  ! ) 
And  one  had  the  name  of  Stumble  Toe. 

Now  one  little  toe  was  called  Hippity  Hop, 
And  he  'd  run  till  the  others  would  beg  him  to  stop ; 
Another  toe  answered  to  Creepity  Creep, 
And  he  never  was  still  except  when  asleep ; 
And  so  on  was  christened  each  one  in  the  row 
Till  you  came  to  the  awkward  Stumble  Toe. 

Oh,  he  was  as  stubborn  as  stubborn  could  be ! 
And  he  sulked  till  a  trial  and  cross  was  he. 
A  whipping  at  morning,  a  spanking  at  night, 
Were  never  enough  to  keep  Stumble  Toe  right ; 
Till  at  last  came  disaster  and  tearful  woe 
To  crown  the  behavior  of  Stumble  Toe. 

78 


Blue  antJ  (Solb. 


The  best  of  good  children  (oh,  but  it 's  sad  / 
Are  sometimes  quite  naughty,  although  not  real  bad ; 
Their  feet  get  so  heavy  they  drag  on  the  floor 
(And  when  they  act  that  way  they  need  one  spank 

more  — 
'Tis  when  they  are  naughty,  some  times,  don't  you 

know) 
And  they  're  taken  advantage  of  by  Stumble  Toe. 

Just  how  it  was  done  I  could  never  recall ; 

I  distinctly  remember  a  terrible  fall, 

And  a  bump  on  the  forehead,  a  bruise  on  the  arm, 

And  my  heart  standing  still  in  fearful  alarm. 

So  look  out,  my  darling ;  wherever  you  go 

Remember  the  story  of  Stumble  Toe. 


79 


93l«e  anil  @olli. 


the  wind's  song  — in  the 
'  tree-top:  * 

l-IERE  in  the  Tree- Top  rest  awhile^ 
And  hark  to  the  wind  that  brings, 

From  over  the  hay,  far,  far  away, 
The  song  it  so  sweetly  sings. 

TO  A  BABE. 

I  dipped  my  wing  in  the  green-gray  sea, 
The  drops  I  scatter  are  pearls  to  thee; 
And  each  white  pearl  is  dream  on  dream, 
For  each  is  a  drop  of  the  slumber  stream. 

And  over  and  over  I  've  kissed  the  clover, 
And  kissed  the  dew ;  a  world-wide  rover, 
From  mountain  and  valley  all  sweets  I  bring 
To  bless  thy  dreams  while  slumbering. 

Then  sleep  in  the  Tree-Top,  baby  mine ; 
Close  those  big  brown  eyes  of  thine. 
The  clover  bloom  and  the  dream-pearl's  spell 
I  sing,  my  love,  and  all  is  well. 


*A  summer  cottage  overlookiiig  Little  Traverse  Bay. 
80 


mm  ant)  &a\ti. 


The  wind  in  the  Tree-Top  ever  sings, 

And  this  is  another  song; 
A  stronger  stave  from  over  the  wave 

For  the  hoy  with  the  curls  so  long. 

TO  A  CHILD. 

Hurrah  for  the  lad 

In  breeches  clad, 
And  a  blouse  like  a  sailor-man ! 

The  boy  for  me 

Is  such  as  he, — 
I  will  give  him  a  coat  of  tan  I 

How  the  ribbons  flap 

On  his  sailor's  cap 
As  if  they  would  blow  away ! 

His  curly  head 

Looks  well  in  bed, 
I  will  give  him  a  nap  each  day. 

He's  never  afraid 

Of  man  or  maid,  — 
In  that  he  is  just  like  me. 

The  water  moans 

When  he  throws  in  stones, — 
We  are  one  when  he  smites  the  sea. 

81 


ISItte  antj  i3a\tf. 


So  hurrah  for  the  lad 

In  hreeches  clad, 
And  a  blouse  like  a  sailor  true! 

He 's  brave,  he 's  free, 

He  resembles  me  — 
I  love  him  enough  for  two. 

A  rollicking  song  was  that  just  heard, 
Here 's  one  in  a  different  key; 

Of  beautiful  days  now  wrapped  in  haze  — 
A  song  of  the  days  to  be. 

TO  A  YOUTH. 

I  fill  the  sails  of  wonderful  boats, 
I  hurry  them  on,  I  hurry  them  on ; 

And  many  a  beautiful  banner  floats 
As  I  go  wandering  hither  and  yon ; 

The  birds  of  paradise  pour  their  throats, 

And  fill  the  air  with  ravishing  notes. 
Till  all  of  the  present  is  gone. 

The  gilded  clouds  away  in  the  west 

I  bear  along,  I  bear  along ; 
The  silver  moon  I  rock  to  rest 

And  send  the  moonlight  with  my  song ; 

82 


Blue  anti  ©olli. 


And  all  of  the  heart's  desires  the  best 
I  waft  to  thee  in  the  Tree-Top  nest 
For  all  to  youth  belong. 

O  youth,  sweet  youth,  with  wondering  eyes, 

I  bid  you  see,  I  bid  you  see ; 
For  all  of  the  future  is  your  prize, 

And  all  good  things  may  come  to  thee ; 
The  sunset  cloud,  the  boat  that  flies,     , 
The  songs  of  the  birds  of  paradise. 

All,  all  are  yours  to  be. 

And  once  again  I  pray  give  ear 
To  a  song  that  shall  blend  in  one 

The  future,  the  past,  the  present.    At  last 
The  song  of  the  tvind  is  done. 

TO  A  FATHER  AND  A  MOTHER. 

Here  in  the  Tree-Top,  blessed  days 
Shall  come  to  thee  and  thine; 

Hither  returning,  various  ways 
Shall  into  one  way  twine. 

Summers  of  gladness,  untold  joys, 
Beneath  this  roof  you  '11  find ; 

8S 


ISlue  ant  ©oltJ. 


Facing  the  future  with  your  boys 
Nothing  shall  prove  unkind. 

Ever  the  present  will  be  blest, 

Ever  the  past  unfold 
Beauty  to  fill  that  place  in  the  nest 

That  is  hers  of  the  heart  of  gold. 


84 


ISluc  anU  (3alti. 


DREAMING  AND  DOING. 

r\ REAMING  is  pleasant,  I  know,  my  boy, 

Dreaming  is  pleasant,  I  know. 
To  dream  of  that  wonderful,  f ar-ofiP  day 
"When  you  '11  be  a  man  and  have  only  to  say, 
To  this  one  and  that  one,  Do  that  and  do  this, 
"While  your  wishes  fulfilment  never  shall  miss, 
May  fill  you  with  pleasure ;  but  deeper  the  joy 
Of  doing  a  thing  yourself,  my  boy  — 
Of  doing  a  thing  yourself. 

Dreaming  is  pleasant,  I  know,  my  girl, 

Dreaming  is  pleasant,  I  know. 

To  dream  of  that  far-off,  wonderful  day 

"When  you  '11  be  a  queen  and  hold  full  sway 

Over  hearts  that  are  loyal  and  kind  and  just, 

"While  your  sweet  *  If  you  please '  will  mean  '  You 

must ! ' 
May  fill  you  with  joy ;  but  you  '11  find  pleasure's 

pearl 
In  doing  for  others  yourself,  my  girl  — 
In  doing  for  others  yourself. 


53Iue  antJ  ©ollJ. 


Suburban  Silhouettes. 

A  BALLADE  OF  COOPERATIVE 
COOKING. 

THE  cooperative  cooking  craze, 
Which  now  so  many  deprecate, 

Perhaps  in  future  happy  days 
The  world  at  large  will  emulate : 
Then  how  we  will  congratulate 

The  few  who  boldly  took  the  lead 
In  cooking  to  coSperate  — 

The  dames  who  made  the  old  recede. 

If  time  shall  prove  our  present  ways 

Are  direful  and  degenerate. 
And  subject  to  the  dreadful  maze 

Of  Bridget-wranglings  intricate. 

With  very  much  to  agitate 
And  tease  our  wives  beyond  their  meed,- 

Then  how  we  will  commemorate 
The  dames  who  made  the  old  recede. 

87 


98Iue  anil  (3a\ti. 


The  grocer,  milkman,  butcher,  strays 

Into  our  kitchens  desolate, 
Where  neither  *  flame'  nor  friendly  blaze 

Will  welcome  him  affectionate. 

We  '11  only  hope  and  pray  that  fate 
Will  send  the  meal  we  sadly  need. 

And,  if  it  tarries,  imprecate 
The  dames  who  made  the  old  recede. 

Envoy. 

On  them  we,  smiling,  turn  to  gaze. 

And  put  small  faith  in  their  new  creed; 

Mayhap  ere  long  we  '11  stop  to  praise 
The  dames  who  made  the  old  recede. 


iSlue  antJ  ©olti. 


THE  DOCTOR'S  RIDE. 

THE  Doctor  loves  a  thoroughbred, 

A  thoroughbred  has  he, 
And  he  can  ride  a  thoroughbred 
In  a  manner  masterly. 

It  was  a  day  in  early  spring 

When  the  sun  shone  bright  and  fair, 
And  the  birds  were  blithely  carolling 

And  flitting  here  and  there. 

His  steed  stood  ready  at  the  door, 

And  pawed  impatiently ; 
A  moment  more  and  medic  lore 

Was  banished  utterly. 

Down  Davis  street  the  mare  and  man 

A  gentle  journey  made 
To  the  road  named  after  Sheridan, 

Then  northward  they  essayed. 

The  boat-house  quickly  fell  behind ; 
The  house  where  the  Bogerts  dwell; 

89 


38Iue  antJ  (goltJ. 


'  Our  Neighbor's  Fence '  and  the  Doctor's  sense 
Then  dropped  behind  as  well. 

The  thoroughbred  was  taking  *  head,' 

The  Doctor  had  to  go ; 
Memorial  Hall  and  the  lighthouse  tall 

Now  to  the  southward  show. 

Along  the  Ridge,  on  toward  "Wilmette, 

As  though  to  win  a  race  — 
They  passed  the  bluffs,  nor  even  yet 

Could  the  Doctor  slacken  pace. 

The  roads  were  fine  and  the  day  was  fair, 

And  the  balmy  breezes  fanned 
The  flanks  of  the  mare,  and  the  Doctor's  hair 

And  his  good  face  weather-tanned. 

On,  on  they  sped,  the  thoroughbred 

And  the  Doctor  dreamily ; 
When  night  came  down,  through  many  a  town 

They  'd  fled  full  furiously. 

In  the  Queen's  domain  were  seen  the  twain, 
The  man  and  the  galloping  mare. 

And  many  a  day  did  pass  away 
Ere  his  patients  knew  his  care. 


90 


3SIue  anb  ®oltJ. 


'Tis  strange  but  true,  how  the  story  grew 

That  the  Doctor  south  had  been, 
To  idly  rove  in  an  orange  grove  — 
To  me  'tis  all  'too  thin.' 

But  truth  will  out,  and  what  I  shout 

Who  is  there  to  deny  ? 
Oh,  Mann,  beware  when  next  your  mare 

Desires  with  you  to  fly ! 


91 


iSlue  antj  (3alti. 


THE  FROG  POND. 

TTHERE  are  places  in  our  village  which  delight 
the  loving  eye 

Of  the  resident  or  stranger  who  is  merely  passing  by ; 

Such  for  instance  are  the  campus,  and  the  lake  shore, 
and  the  parks, 

Where  moonless  nights  in  summertime  show  myr- 
iads of  'sparks.' 

But  the  place  before  all  others  that 's  entitled  to  the 
*  cake  * 

Is  the  frog  pond  by  the  railroad  track  where  Sher^ 
man  crosses  Lake. 

Would  you  see  it  in  its  beauty,  hear  its  swelling 

inmates  croak 
Till  you  'd  think  their  apparatuses  would  every  one 

be  broke. 
Just  visit  it  in  springtime,  when  the  rains  have  filled 

it  full 
And  listen  to  the  bellowings  of  the  boisterous  Mr. 

Bull— 


iSlue  anl)  (BalU. 


The  sound  is  something  solemn,  and  enough  to  make 

you  quake 
As  it  rises  from  the  frog  pond  near  where  Sheiv 

man  crosses  Lake. 

Doc  Webster's  gentle  Jersey  cow  at  times  we  've 
chanced  to  see 

Made  fast  by  several  yards  of  rope  to  a  neighboring 
willow  tree, 

And  we  have  wished  her  bigger,  with  an  awful  love 
for  drink. 

Which  might  result  in  mortals  being  given  time  to 
think, — 

For  then  she'd  soon  relieve  us,  when  she  sought 
her  thirst  to  slake, 

Of  the  frog  pond  by  the  railroad  track  where  Sher- 
man crosses  Lake. 


iSIue  antJ  ©oHi. 


THE  FEM.  SEM.  GIRL. 

TTHE  society  girl  with  mind  in  a  whirl 

Who  thinks  but  of  tennis  and  '  hops,' 
The  mythical  miss  who  refuses  a  kiss 

Because  it  is  naughty,  and  stops, — 
The  much-afraid  maid  who  sits  in  the  shade 

For  fear  she  will  freckle  and  tan, — 
Are  not  in  the  race  for  third  or  fourth  place, 

The  Fem.  Sem.  is  the  girl  for  a  man. 

No  dandified  dude  would  dare  to  intrude 

Where  his  manners  would  surely  be  *  guyed '; 
No  clodhopper  clown  but  could  fathom  her  frown 

Which  surely  to  him  were  applied ; 
No  self-esteemed  chump  with  an  oversized  bump 

Of  conceit,  but  would  shrink  at  her  plan 
Of  making  it  known  to  what  size  it  had  grown  — 

The  Fem.  Sem.  is  the  girl  for  a  man. 

Yes,  the  charming  Fem.  Sem.  (there  are  many  of 
them) 
Is  a  girl  whom  a  man  may  adore ; 

9i 


Blue  antJ  (§oHi. 


Her  knowledge  of  books  has  not  spoiled  her  good 
looks 

For  she 's  nurtured  in  womanly  lore ; 
To  bask  in  her  smile  is  surely  worth  while, 

And  blest  are  the  mortals  who  can ; 
She  is  good,  she  is  fair,  and  again  we  declare  — 

The  Fern.  Sem.  is  the  girl  for  a  man. 


95 


ISlue  anti  @oltJ. 


LINDY. 

"THARE  wa'n't  no  reason  I  could  see, 

Why  Lindy  had  n't  ort  to  be 
The  happiest  gal  'at  ever  set 
Afore  a  mirror.     Why,  I  bet 
She 's  got  more  gowns  'an  she  could  wear, 
An'  change  'em  daily,  till  the  Fair 
Of  nineteen  hundred  ninety-three  — 
Leastwise  so  it  'peared  to  me. 

A  span  o'  bosses,  fit  to  haul 
The  queen,  is  waitin'  at  her  call, 
An'  'bout  a  dozen  kinds  o'  rigs  — 
The  funniest  is  them  two-wheeled  gigs, — 
An'  footmen,  when  she  sends  'em,  scoot 
An'  do  theyr  best  her  whims  to  suit. 
But  with  all  this  she  seems  to  lack 
The  happy  look  she  had  way  back. 

That  house  o'  hern !    Well,  I  '11  be  blest 
If  it  ain't  jest  about  the  best 


96 


Blue  anil  (3aVti. 


'At  ever  I  set  my  foot  in ! 
No  use  fer  my  tongue  to  begin 
To  spell  out  sech  a  awful  stack 
O'  furniture  an*  brickybrack. 
Thare's  everythin'  'at  you  can  guess 
Would  go  fer  makin'  happiness. 

Thare's  books  an'  pictures  till  my  eyes 
Was  tired  o'  lookin'  with  surprise. 
When  Lindy  told  me  what  they  cost 
I  thought  her  senses  must  be  lost ! 
But  when  she  turned,  her  eyes  all  sad, 
An'  like  she  ust  ter,  called  me  *Dad,' 
An'  put  her  hand  in  mine,  I  knew 
'At  what  our  Lindy  said  was  true. 

An'  when  nex'  day  she  told  me  how 
She  felt  so  kind  o'  lonesome  now, 
An'  took  his  little  picture  out  — 
The  baby's  'at  you  know  about  — 
An'  said  'at  she  would  ruther  part 
With  all  o'  them  great  works  o'  art 
'An  with  that  little  baby's  face, 
I  knowed  her  heart  was  in  its  place. 


97 


Blue  antj  (goIU. 


An*  so  I  'm  thinkin',  tho'  John  'a  good, 
An'  gives  her  everythin'  he  should, 
He 's  busy,  an'  maybe  f orgits 
'At  how  she  sometimes  has  them  fits 
O'  lonesomeness,  an'  does  n't  know 
'At  what  she  cares  f er  is  n't  show, 
But  love,  to  dry  that  fountain  up 
'At  every  day  fills  sorrer's  cup. 


96 


Blue  ant)  (SoUj. 


THE  KISS. 

"THE  fragrance  of  fair  gardens  stole 

Through  silent  spaces  dusky, 
Detective  fire-flies  flashed  patrol 
Down  many  pathways  musky, 
When  first  he  called  Miss  Katherine  '  Kate ' 

And  lost  the  prefix  '  Mr.' — 
They  parted  at  the  garden  gate, 
'T  was  tliere  he  kissed  her. 

Her  eyes  were  jewels  wondrous  bright, 
No  diamonds  could  outshine  them; 

Her  teeth  were  such  a  milky  white 
Were  ivory  judge  't  would  fine  them ! 

Her  mouth  !  —  no  flower  so  sweet  doth  blow- 
What  mortal  could  resist  her? 

Although  her  lips  said  <  No,  no,  no ! ' 
'T  was  there  he  kissed  her. 


99 


SSluc  anlJ  (gain. 


HOW  THE  OTHER  HALF  LIVE. 

LIOW  the  other  half  live,  is  a  question  I  fear, 

Dear  sirs,  to  discuss,  for  to  me  'tis  not  clear 
Who  the  other  half  are.  Two  halves  make  a  whole — 
On  that  proposition  would  each  stake  his  soul ; 
"We  belong  to  the  world,  and  when  that  is  divided 
To  which  half  we  belong  will  then  be  decided ; 
But  who  is  among  us  in  full  glare  of  day, 
Not  by  gaslight  at  banquet,  is  willing  to  say 
How  the  other  half  live? 

How  the  other  half  live !     There 's  the  good  and 

the  bad. 
And  the  halves  are  uneven,  although  it  is  sad ; 
And  the  latter  outnumber  the  first  in  such  wise 
As  to  discount  all  blessings  the  good  can  devise. 
And  who  is  now  here  who  would  wish  to  declare, 
By  naming  the  other,  his  own  and  our  share? 
'T  is  a  question  that  puts  us  all  far  out  to  sea, 
And  one  that  may  bother  us  eternally  — 
How  the  other  half  live. 


100 


iSlue  attH  (Salt. 


How  the  other  half  live !  Who  is  rich,  who  is  poor  ? 
If  we  knew  who  were  which  we  might  find  us  a  cure. 
Many  troubles  we  know  are  withdrawn  from  the 

latter, 
At  the  same  time  we  wish  that  oar  wallets  were 

fatter! 
And  so  I  have  run  through  a  numerous  list 
(Which  might  have  been  longer  had  nothing  been 

missed) 
Till  at  last  I  have  come  to  the  only  division 
That  has  helped  me  at  all  in  making  decision 
How  the  other  half  live. 

How  the  other  half  live !     Who  the  other  half  are, 

When  discovered,  solution  is  not  very  far. 

Why,  who  could  they  be,  but  the  women,  God  bless 

them! 
Our  own  better  halves!     How  we  love  and  caress 

them! 
The  only  division  to  make  of  humanity 
Into  two  parts,  without  losing  your  sanity. 
Is  division  by  sexes.     Now  be  it  resolved. 
By  the  light  of  these  rhymes  has  the  problem  been 

solved 

How  the  other  half  live. 


IQl 


3SIue  nnti  (Salti. 


DON'T. 

T\0  N'T  use  an  inch  rule  to  measure  your  life ; 

The  horizon,  the  peaks  in  the  sky, 
Are  always  at  hand  —  let  your  living  he  planned 

To  a  scale  which  such  ohjects  supply. 
Do  n't  wear  yourself  out  in  an  ignoble  strife ; 

There  are  objects  worth  whUe  to  achieve, 
And  they  lie  within  reach  of  the  humblest  and  teach 

A  gospel  the  world  will  receive. 

Do  n't  gaze  at  a  copper  with  look  so  intense 

Its  impress  is  stamped  on  your  mind ; 
'T  was  a  miser  was  led  by  a  penny  who  said, 

Look  out  for  each  cent  that  you  find. 
Take  care  of  the  dollars,  you  '11  have  enough  cents 

To  keep  you  from  poverty's  door ; 
Enjoy  what  you  've  got  without  casting  your  lot 

With  spendthrifts  or  niggards  galore. 

Do  n't  get  in  a  rut  —  take  a  main-travelled  road 
Worn  smooth  by  the  many  who  pass ; 


loa 


ISlue  anlj  (Soli. 


If  you  travel  in  '  tracks '  you  will  follow  the  hacks 
That  ought  to  be  turned  out  to  grass. 

It  matters  but  little  what  sort  of  a  load 
You  carry  or  whither  it  goes ; 

If  you  journey  aright  the  burden  is  light 
And  you  're  ready  for  friends  or  for  foes. 


103 


iSlue  anti  (§alD. 


AUNT  MARY. 

THERE 'S  a  time  at  the  close  of  day, 
When  the  tea  things  are  put  away, 
When  Aunt  Mary  thinks  and  winks  and  hlinks,- 
And  what  does  she  think  of,  pray? 

Does  she  think  of  the  days  gone  by  ? 

And  is  every  breath  a  sigh 
For  the  hours  she  spent  in  merriment, 

When  quick  were  foot  and  eye? 

Do  those  nights,  long  gone,  return, 

And  love's  old  passion  burn  ? 
Of  far-away  June  does  memory  croon. 

And  make  her  poor  heart  yearn  ? 

Or  is  it  of  other  things, 

Her  memory  busily  sings  — 
Of  troublesome  mice  and  boys  not  nice. 

Of  the  cupboard  door  that  swings  ? 

If  her  thoughts  are  of  this  or  that. 

For  the  gift  of  a  brand-new  hat. 
She  would  not  tell,  I  know  right  well  — 

Aunt  Mary 's  the  household  cat. 


104 


Illlnilllllliilliiillilliliiliiiiiiii' 
A     000  130  099     5 


